Lie to Me
by Tom T. Thomson
Summary: RvB.  SPOILERS FOR CH 20 OF REVELATIONS!  Church finally catches up to the Blues only to find he has been replaced.  No longer a one shot.  Chapter 2 up.
1. Lie to Me

AN: Watched Chapter 20 of RvB Revelations. Burnie keeps getting rid of Church. This was my response to it. And Church needs a happy ever after. Even a tiny one.

* * *

Wash rechecked his weapon for what felt like the millionth time since they got into the compound. "The plan is, I'll take Church as a prisoner. If I take more than one of you it won't be believable."

Church nodded, understanding the use for being someone. Wash would not be able to pull out with the Alpha on his own.

Caboose stepped up, glancing briefly at Church before turning to Wash. "Agent Washington, I want you to take me instead."

"What're you talkin' about?" Church asked frowning.

But Caboose didn't seem to care or take notice of the other Blue's question. "I will be your prisoner. Let Church go. He doesn't have anything to do with this!"

Simple, simple Caboose thought Wash was going to lock Church up.

Now, looking back, Church missed having someone so devoted to him.

Church stared at Wash, kneeling down on the floor looking up at him, in disbelief. "You mean to tell me we've come all this way for _this?_ Your fucking crazy A.I. Epsilon?"

Completely dead pan and more serious than a grapefruit sized tumor, "Yes. I thought it was gone. But Delta told _you _memory was the key. At first I thought he meant to remember our first encounter. And when I met Delta the first time what I told him was-"

- that everything was slowly starting to spiral out of control. Or maybe it was always coming undone but it took this long for him to notice.

Wash was explaining just how sick Project Freelancer was and Church was trying to not draw conclusions because deep down, Church knew what Wash was going to say. "Just like a human mind when it's broken; it fragments. It fractures itself to protect itself."

"They _tortured_ it," Church continued the train that he knew with no doubt in his mind Wash was on.

"Like reverse engineering a multiple personality disorder," Wash told him, standing up to look into Church s eyes. Because he needed to understand. "They presented Alpha with scenario after scenario of stress and danger. When it started to fragment, they harvested those fragments."

But Church could not look at him so he looked down at the Epsilon unit. Crazy Epsilon, infamous Epsilon.

"Exhorted little fragments of purified compartmentalized emotion. None of them were a full personality. Some were good-" Wash was saying.

"Like Delta?" Church asked, desperate to see something good come out of this, come out of _him_.

"Delta was Alpha's logic. It needed to protect itself from analyzing what was happening to it. So it segregated that part of its mind. The part that would be able to understand the horror of what they were doing to it. And when the anger came and threatened to take over, it split that off too._That_ was Omega; its rage. Gamma was its deceit. Sigma was its creativity. And Epsilon..."

And Epsilon was crazy.

"Church, there's no such thing as ghosts. You're one of them. You're an A.I. You, are the Alpha."

Fucking Wash, he had no idea just how much Church hated him at that moment. And it wasn't because Church thought he was wrong; Church knew Wash was right. He just hated him for saying it _out loud_.

"When it goes off, I'll be fine. It only affects computers, remember? And I, am a mother fucking ghost." He knew it wasn't true but he needed it to be true. He had been fine until someone had told him otherwise. He had lived, died, and would go out as a fucking ghost.

Not even Wash could change that.

And then it got worse. Mostly because he had not gone out; no he got to stick around. The Blues gave up on him. Even Caboose, that puppy of a man who just could not let Church out of his sight and play well with others only after Church told him to. Even Caboose had moved on, in his own Caboose-like way, but he no longer cared about the real Church. He was working with Epsilon, crazy Epsilon, and was trying to get himself a new Church.

Even Caboose had replaced him.

It took a very long time but he found them. It took almost two months of jumping from one person to another and back to the body he claimed as his own (forced to replace parts of himself, everyone was replacing him) before he found real evidence of where his team had gone. It took learning how to be an AI to find his first real clue: a distress call from Tucker. But with that step, he found his first real taste of hope. He slowly gave parts of himself up, the parts of him he had found at Blood Gulch, and with each part of himself that he gave up (was this what it had been like when the real Church had torn him apart, piece by piece until only the ghost remained?) he found more clues and more hope.

He followed them to Valhalla only to find empty bases and a few dead bodies (the remains of his Blood Gulch life were going away and they were never going to come back). Somehow, he got to Sandbox and under all that sand and all that heat, he was able to find a way to follow the Meta (his once safe haven for that one moment before that EMP) and Wash (all he had done was tell Church the truth – why did Church still hate him so much?) as they moved again. More bodies were found in their wake. Church just hoped his team would not even be in their wake because if they were they would be dead.

And Church did not know how to replace them.

But they had replaced him. They had replaced him even before he had found them. Not only had they replaced him, Caboose even thought that this new Church, that is crazy Epsilon, was more important than Church had ever been.

Church didn't know what to do. The Meta had gone over the ledge with the Reds' jeep, Wash was barely alive because he had fought for his fucking crazy AI Epsilon. Wash had never even tried to fight for Church. But his replacement got it. Tucker had placed a hand on Caboose's shoulder as the other blue crashed to his knees next to the memory unit. Faintly he could hear Caboose calling Church's name. Asking him to come back.

It was all too much. Church had been killed off and replaced. No one wanted, needed, expected him to show up. Church had been made from another's mind to be tortured into fragments for the use and benefit of others. Later he would be placed in "some useless backwater canyon where no-one ever goes" (Wash's words and everything else was true, why not this?) where he would be blown up by the one person who would later mourn for him (not even his ex had mourned for him, it had only been Caboose). After he would work so closely with all these people and they would just… He had started to think of them as family. Long before the bases were deemed useless, Tucker and Caboose had become his family. Yes he bitched about them and they about him but it had been as close to the real thing as he could have ever gotten (just look at where his other memories had come from - residual Wash had called them) but wasn't that what a family was?

Then Wash would get involved and that ever downward spiral would tighten (the Meta, Tex, the whole fucking AI thing, finding crazy Epsilon, the EMP) until this moment (standing watching himself become nothing more than a very far away memory as the people he thought of as family mourned _someone else_ when it should have been him).

Really what was there left for him if the Blues didn't want him?

Distraught, Church took the wrong step back and yelped as he fell. He dropped straight down for only a heartbeat (that was a residual memory, the memory of a heart beat – it was all false. All of it until Blood Gulch then it was all him and they were done with him.) before he started to tumble down the slope until he skidded to a stop at on some ice. There was a moment a very short moment (as an AI, Church was finding many moments in the span it used to take a moment) where Church thought he might have died. Again. Then the ache came and he realized he was still, painfully, regretfully (why couldn't that EMP have killed him?) alive.

And so was someone else.

That domed fishbowl helmet didn't move in Church's direction but he knew, the Meta was watching him. They both were alive when the world had written them out.

The sudden mutual feeling of abandonment did not make Church want to get any closer.

In fact, at the twitch of the Meta's hand, Church rolled away but was unable to leave the patch of ice that held him, the Meta and the wreckage of the Reds' jeep. Maybe the Meta was too far-gone to be able to do anything. Maybe all those enhancements and extra equipment was damaged and –

The cloaking the Meta had ripped from Tex flickered. Or maybe not.

Slowly standing Church watched the Meta very carefully, debating if he really should just jump into the icy waters and swim away. It was around then there was the tiniest hiss of static over his comm. He paused and listened again as the Meta shifted, still looking at him.

"… M—n … Wa—hu… lp."

It wasn't clear enough for Church to understand each word but there were words in that static. Maybe he was right; maybe the Meta was gone and all was left was everything that had been there before.

("No matter how bad they seem, they can't be any better, and they can't be any worse, because that's the way things fucking are, and you better get used to it Nancy. Quit yer bitching.")

So taking a (in his opinion) very brave step forward, Church reached out to the thing that had forced him to the place he was at now. The Meta took his hand and together, they got him standing again.

That fishbowl helmet looked at him and a static filled voice filtered through his comm. "Wash mentioned you."

The voice was tired. This was someone who had been created for the greater good only to be turned into someone who fought and sacrificed himself for the best of one. He had been sent out on a mission and no one had told him just what could happen during it even though they had to have known. Then after he had fulfilled that mission, they had not said anything, no thank yous or well dones. He was left, just as Church or the Alpha had, and ignored. Swept under the carpet to be stepped on until the tiny mound that had been Agent Maine was nothing more than a pile of dust and ashes. Once Project Freelancer was over with and done for, the Meta was sent out again like a sick twisted version of an errand boy to fetch back the Blues and crazy Epsilon, overseen by someone who could be even crazier than himself.

Maine, Church had learned, had been reported as KIA. That was right before the Meta showed up on anyone's radar. That was why Wash couldn't believe the Meta was Maine. Maine was dead. Just like Church.

But here they both were, over one hundred feet down from the surface on a barren dead surrounding. No one thought of them then. No one cared or expected to see them ever again. And no one mourned for either. They would be simply replaced.

Church was amazed at what he was seeing. Agent Maine, long thought dead and even longer not in control, was thinking of Church first.

"Not by name but he had to have been talking about you."

"What do you know of me?" Church asked, almost afraid of what the ex Freelancer would say.

Maine reached up and removed his helmet and shook out shaggy sandy blonde hair before looking at Church with olive green eyes. He smiled warmly despite the icy air and despite what he had just gone through. He smiled and Church found himself smiling along with him. "Doesn't matter now does it? It's a new start really. Come on. Make something up. Be whatever you want to be to me. How will I know if you aren't telling the truth?"

It took a moment (one of those long AI moments where Church had time to rethink everything) to realized just what Maine was giving him. It was a start over. Maine didn't want to be the Meta any more than Church wanted to be the Alpha AI. Neither really knew who the other was. What did Church know about Maine? He had been a member of Project Freelancer, could have had an AI before he was sent out to find the rest of them and bring them back. Reported KIA. Wash had known him. And that was it. There was nothing else Church knew about the man before him.

What did Maine know about Church?

Well, thought Church, let's lie and find out.

He held out a hand and said, "My name is Leonard Church. I was born and raised in Texas before being shipped out to a fucking box canyon in the middle of nowhere."

Maine took his hand (accepted the lie about being born, raised, about being human) and smiled. "See? Not that hard."


	2. 4 You

AN: Wow, I think this means I feel bad for Maine. Or at least more than I feel bad for Wash. Oh and I love Wash. But I felt that Maine needed to vent a little. And I have no idea why Maine lacks a name.

* * *

The doctor was muttering under his breath. The Agent didn't care nor did he try to understand it better. Despite that, he heard snide snippets from the man's direction. Something about, "shouldn't be seeing anyone … Why place them in our care if you aren't going to heed our advice?" The Agent knew what the man was talking about but didn't care. This might be his last chance.

A door was unlocked and the doctor waved him in and left as soon as he passed through.

Inside was a white room. White padded walls, white padded floor, white light, white everything. Curled in the corner was a man dressed completely in white, dark head hidden in his arms.

"Hey. David?" the Agent said softly, kneeling next to the man.

David's head snapped up. "Maine?"

"Yeah, it's me," Maine said, brushing some of David's over grown hair out of the way.

"Why are you here? The doctors said I shouldn't have visitors. Is everything okay?" David asked, eyes wide and a little crazed. But after Epsilon, David being a little crazed was an improvement.

"Yeah everything is fine. I'm just here to tell you—" Maine could not finish because David grabbed his arm.

"They gave you one? They gave you one! You have to get rid of it. You don't know where they got it," he cried, other hand coming up to grab the other shoulder.

"Dave? What are you talking about?" Maine said, but he already knew.

"The AI. They gave you one. You have to get rid of it," David spoke very clearly; he saw what he was saying as life or death and Maine needed to understand. "You don't understand what they did to get it. You don't understand what they did to him to get them!" Maine had no idea who David was talking about by now.

"Then tell me. Make me understand," he said.

"No, you have one in your head already. Don't you get it? You are theirs now." David let go and stared at him for a long moment before pulling away. "They are going to kill you."

"Dave—"

"No, I don't want to… Just leave me alone."

Maine sighed and stood up. "Okay. Guess…" He looked around, feeling lost and unsure. "Get better, okay, David?"

David didn't say anything until Maine was almost out the door. "It will kill you; that AI in your head. It's just a matter of time."

That was the last time he saw David. The next time they met, there was only Agent Washington.

* * *

"You told me I wouldn't get it! Well, you were right. At first I didn't but now I do and you know something, _Wash_?" Maine paused to glare daggers at the stoic man before him. "Fuck you. You were right about so much. The AIs, where they came from, the Alpha." His voice became thick with emotion and betrayal. "You were even right about my AI killing me. Well fucking done. But did you stop? No, you stood beside me while I was dead, gone. And after all that shit? You blame me." There was the tiniest pause before Maine started up again, louder, angrier. "You think this was about me? It wasn't! Everything I have ever done was for you! I accepted the Director's mission to find the AIs in hopes of finding you! In hopes of fixing you. I wanted only to get the Alpha back in one piece so you would know that everything you went through was fucking worth it."

Wash didn't say anything.

"And you know what hurts the most, Wash? That you think you got the worst end of all this. Yeah, they lied to you, Wash. No one told you where they got the AIs. By complete fluke, you got the crazy AI. You found out what they were doing through a crazy mind inside yours. You were the first, and last, Agent to be certified Article Twelve. Then when they wanted you, they put you back in. They send you after _me_ and didn't even tell you." Maine shook his head. "How _could they_? How could they do that to _you_? I mean, you, Agent Washington. What honors did you receive? None. You were as much of a cannon fodder as anyone could be." Maine laughed; a hopeless pain filled sound that almost broke Church's heart to hear it.

"Well guess fucking what, Wash? They lied to all of us! No one told any of us where they got the AIs. You got one craze AI, what about Carolina? She got two. You think you were wronged because you found out what they did to the Alpha? What about all of us who were never told? Never found out. What about all those Agents who still thought they were fighting for a noble cause? Did they get it better than you?" Maine cocked his head to one side and his whole body stiffened; a familiar posture of the META. "They didn't tell you who you were sent after. And yet you were surprised. You were shocked that they didn't tell you who the META was."

"Maine—" Wash tried.

"No, Washington," Maine said, holding up a hand. "No. You got it fucking good. While you were in your little padded room, do you know where I was? What I was doing?" He paused again, this time it felt like he was trying to keep from exploding again. "I was killing our fellow Agents. Do you know how that started? Funny story. My AI, Kappa, took over my body. By the time I figured out what was happening, Nebraska was dead and Nu was in my head. Did you know the Director send me specifically after Braska?"

"No," Wash said, sounding a little lame.

"Because he knew Kap and Nu would be able to over power me and start work on the rest of the rouge Agents. That bastard _knew_ what I was getting into. He planned on it. You feel bad about them not knowing Epsilon was crazy? How did you think I felt about becoming that … that thing?"

"Maine," Church whispered, a hand moving to comfort him.

But he was waved away; Maine was not done. "By the time we met up, I had fourteen AIs in my head. You only saw seven of them. Armor could only make seven AI projections…" he said, trailing off a little. "You remember how all the AI would try to learn more about the Alpha? Remember how they would get kinda' obsessed if there were enough of them? It took two of them to drive Carolina crazier than you. It took two to overpower me. What do you think it was like having fourteen of them in my head? You think you had it bad. No, Wash, no, you had it nice and easy. You just got unlucky. Me? They _pick_ me for that mission. They knew they needed Kappa and me for that to work.

"Would I have said no if I had known what they wanted? I don't know. I have no idea what I would have done if I knew everything. But all I needed to know to accept a mission the _Director_ told me was most likely suicide was that it would make everything you went through worth it. I did what I did for _you._" Maine pulled away from Church and moved closer to the still unmoving Wash. "Everything I did, I did for you. I became the META for _you_ and you feel betrayed? You feel _betrayed_?" Maine finished barely above a whisper.

Wash flinched, not very much but enough for Maine to back down. Which he did; he moved back until he could hold Church.

"But really I guess I can only do one thing, Wash."

"And what is that?" Wash asked, voice slightly strained from the verbal bombardment he just went through.

"I need to thank you." Maine moved around so he was holding Church from behind, able to stare at the Agent. "If it had not been for you, neither of us," he said nodded at Church, "would have found each other. You let both of us die. We died in so many different ways. We died so thoroughly that we could finally see."

"What are you talking about?" Wash said, frowning just a little.

"The Ancient Egyptian word for _dead_ translates into _to see_ because only after one has died, can one see. You opened our eyes. You killed both of us. So thank you." Maine turned to go but Church refused to move.

Wash noticed and scowled. "Do you have something to say to me as well?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got one thing to say. Fuck you."

Wash felt his lips twitch. "That's it?"

"Yeah, it's not like I have anything to prove to you." Church turned to follow Maine when he stopped again. "No, you know what? I do have something to prove." Not hesitating, he reached up that tiny distance between Maine and himself and pulled Maine into a bruising kiss. He hooked an arm around Maine's neck and pulled himself up onto his toes, shoving himself as hard as he could against his lover. Maine smiled and returned every nib Church was giving him with a full-blown bite. Within two bites, Church's lips were bleeding; Maine was sucking on them, enjoying the taste. The two assaulted each other's mouth as ferociously as they could. Maine had his hands on Church's back, pulling him so close, he could feel the other man's heart beat. Knowing the man watching was getting uncomfortable at the animalistic display of ownership, Maine loosened his grip on Church, allowing the slightly smaller man to pull away. Church took a deep breath, only slightly successful at calming his racing heart, and licked his bloody lips.

Wash glanced away before asking, "And what does that prove?"

"That we," Church said, smiling with blood stained lips and teeth, "that we," he repeated, "are better off without you. I hope you rot, you fucking son of a bitch." And he left.

Maine smiled, less sadistically, and said, "If we are not that lucky, we can settle for never seeing you again."

And they never did see Wash again.

* * *

Life, David decided, was that sick fucker who bet hard earned money on the loosing team only to never show up at the bookie when they win. Life liked to watch as people crawled around on the ground and not tell them there were handle bars to help them stand on their own two feet. Death, on the other hand, gave you everything that you needed. Death told you when to hit and when to hold. It told you where to dig to find the long lost buried treasure. Death made life so simple. The trick was surviving Death.

They had all died in their own way. Some of them more than others but they had all had died. David had died back when Epsilon had killed himself really. That death had left him as a shell that had to be filled by something. As he recovered he become Washington merely because someone had to be inside that body of his. David had died and Washington had simply stepped up to do what David could not longer do. David did not feel any remorse for all the shit Wash gave the Reds and Blues. He did feel bad about how it had affected Maine and Church but he did not know the Reds or the other Blues. He did not feel bad about anything Wash had done because he understood it. He did understand the need to be right, to have been used so poorly for it to have meant something great for someone. Wash had sacrificed every part of him for what he had believed in. Then he had died.

And now David could enjoy the results.

One of which was improved aim.

"Nice shot, man," Maine said, setting down his beer and gazing across their make shift shooting gallery. It mostly consisted of rocks on a wall some several hundred meters away. "Right on target."

"Yeah, totally nailed that fucking rock," Church said, ever so snidely. "Poor sucker never saw that shot coming."

"Oh shut up, asshole," David shot back. "I'd like to see you hit that." He laughed as Church's face reddened. Maine joined in as the man shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh shut up!" Church cried and hit Maine on the shoulder lightly causing the larger man to grab him around the waist. "Let go, damnit!"

"Sure, just in a moment." And he gave the struggling Church a kiss on his cheek. He let him go and Church went to stand next to David who was still chuckling a little.

"What are you laughing at?"

Life, David decided, was a sick fucker who really should be avoided whenever possible. Death, on the other hand, should be embraced with open arms.


End file.
